Of course I guessed at once that this was the nurse to whom the saucy maiden had already referred. I heard them whisper to each other (and it seemed to me as if the woman were remonstrating with her mistress) while I installed the Princess on her cushions. Then both rejoined us to enter the carriage likewise. Before she jumped in, Mademoiselle Ottilie tapped her nurse on the shoulder with the sort of indifferent, kind little pat one would bestow on a dog. The woman caught the careless hand and kissed it, and her eyes as she looked after the girl’s figure were absolutely adoring; but her whole countenance again clouded over strangely when her glance fell upon us. At length they all three were seated, and my graceful retirement was clearly expected. But still I lingered.
“The vintage had begun in my vineyards,” quoth I hesitatingly; “if her Highness would honour me by coming again upon my lands, the sight might interest her.”
The Princess hesitated, and then, evidently doubtful as to the propriety of the step, threw a questioning glance at her companion.
“But certainly,” said the latter instantly, “why not accept? Your Highness has been advised to keep in the open air as much as possible, and your Highness has likewise been recommended innocent diversion: nothing could be better. When shall we say?”
“If to-morrow would suit,” I suggested boldly, “I could ride over after noon, if her Highness would permit me to be her escort. And perhaps she will also further honour me by accepting some slight refreshment at my castle. It is worth seeing,” I said, for I saw no reason why I should be bashful in pushing my advantages, “if your Highness is not afraid to enter Le Château des Fous?” I ventured to look deep into her eyes as I spoke, and I remember how those eyes wavered shyly from my gaze, and how the white lids fell over them. And I remember, too, with what a sudden mad exultation leaped my heart.
But, as before, it was the lady-in-waiting who answered.
“Afraid! who is afraid? Your Highness, will you not comfort the poor young man and tell him you are not afraid?”
“If your Highness would deign,” said I, pleadingly, and leaning forward into the carriage.
And then she looked at me, and said to me in the sweetest guttural in all the world, “No, I am not afraid.”